


When the Going Gets Good

by ride_the_dinos



Series: Welcome to the Fairgrounds [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Clubbing, Collars, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26777995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ride_the_dinos/pseuds/ride_the_dinos
Summary: Luka’s face explodes in white-hot pain and suddenly he’s gasping up from the harsh gravel, vision swirling with the sickly yellow fluorescence above. He chokes on  something thick and warm and metallic. The man’s greasy face swims into view.“You’ve been so good up till now, don’t ruin it, yeah?”
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Welcome to the Fairgrounds [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952311
Kudos: 5
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	When the Going Gets Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meaninglessblah-oc (meaninglessblah)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaninglessblah/gifts).



> Day 2 Prompt: Kidnapping, Collars

Calli drags a nail across his throat, right above the seam of his collar. Her bangs tickle his ear as she speaks. 

“Be a good pup and save our seats, yeah?”

He nods and presses a quick kiss to her exposed collarbone before she slips off and drags Wis towards the bathroom. He watches the fabric of their dresses shimmer and sparkle in the pulsing club lights until they’re swallowed up by the crowd. 

Luka leans back against the bar, enjoying the heavy buzz zipping from his fingertips to his toes. They’d been here...five hours? Six? After the fifth shot he’d stopped caring. It’s not like anyone’s expecting them back anytime soon, Calli’s dads are in town but she has yet to make herself known to them, opting instead to stay at the downtown penthouse and waste the weekend away with Wis and himself. He’s not certain why she’s been holding out but he’s certainly not complaining. He thinks about the ropes they’d left dangling over the bed and grins lazily. 

The music is so loud his teeth ache with it. He taps his foot against the linoleum floor and doesn't realize he’s off-beat until the next song starts up. 

The room is smoky, sticky and way too crowded. Drunk men and women wearing scraps of clothing worth more than Wis’ Yamaha writhe in time with the bass. Sweat gleams, teeth flash, and feet pound. 

He’d still thoroughly enjoying the way the beat vibrates in his skull when he feels someone slipping into the seat next to his. A spark of anxiety cuts through the euphoric haze when he turns and takes in a man taller than Calli and twice as broad. 

“Oh, uh...that’s…”

He trails off as the man smirks at him and runs a hand through his greased-back hair. The rings on his long fingers reflect the neon lights as he lifts a glass to his lips and it’s distracting enough to knock Luka’s thoughts off-track. Well,  _ that  _ , and the overflow of alcohol drumming through his veins. 

“Those girls who just left, they with you?” The way he purrs around the question sparks an alarm in Luka’s mind and he frowns. 

“Uh, yeah. That’s-that’s one of the seats-“

The man chuckles and Luka can barely hear it over the music, “I won’t be here long, it’s alright. I wan...”

Whatever he’s about to say is drowned in the swell of the bass and Luka shakes his head in confusion. The man leans so close he can smell a waft of peppermint on his breath as he speaks up, “Wanna go somewhere a bit quieter?”

“They told me- I’m saving their seats.”

“We won’t be long, I just want to talk for a minute.”

Luka shakes his head, vision tilting with the movement. The buzz in his fingertips is no longer light and comfortable so he turns nervously on his stool and picks his glass back up, sipping at the cool liquid. It’s bitter going down and he throws back the entire glass before licking his lips and grabbing the attention of the bartender. 

“Oh, come on, kid. You look bored as hell sitting here all alone,” the man grins, sharp and bright, “I can help with that, ya know?”

Luka’s heart is in his throat as he looks away from the man’s smile. He hates disappointing people. He hates saying no. But this guy gives him...bad vibes. And the  _ girls…  _ His anxiety is kicking into full gear. He takes a sip of the new drink and forces a breath, forces himself to stay grounded.

“I’d like to stay here, I’m sorry.”

The man backs off with a smooth wave of a hand and takes another contemplating sip. Luka hates the way his skin crawls under his dark gaze. 

“So who are they?” 

“What?”

“The two you’re with? They’ve gotta be  _ someone  _ to get up here. I’m curious.”

Yeah, that’s a no. “They uh...they’re visiting from Arizona.”

The man’s eyebrow furrows into another smirk, “That barely answers my question, kid. Are they dancers? They’re pretty enough.”

Luka leans back and stares at him, “H-how long have you been…?”

“You can’t blame a guy for noticing a pretty little thing, can you?” The man drags his gaze down Luka’s torso and Luka can’t help the goosebumps that rise to his flesh when their gazes meet again. 

The discomfort he expected to feel is missing. In its place is a warm buzz. His fingers feel numb against the cool bar. He’s so distracted by the building sensation that he barely catches the next words. 

“...lucky man, two hanging from your arm tonight.”

“Wait- what..?”

The dark gaze is intense now and Luka has a hard time tearing his eyes away. 

Why is the man swaying? Oh wait. Maybe that’s him?

“Sorry, I, uh-“ Luka fumbles his glass and swears as the tinted liquor splashes across his chest. The man’s hand comes out of nowhere and plucks the glass from his numb fingers, brushing at his shirt. Luka is too out of it to notice the man’s pause when he sees the collar, barely notices when his long fingers brush against the material. 

“I’m sorry, fuck I’m-I’m really…”

“Hey, it’s okay. No harm to me,” comes the silky admission, “You want to wash that off?”

“I…” Luka stares dizzily down at his ruined shirt. Why is it so hard to speak? Why are his arms so fucking  _ heavy  _ ? He’s  _ way  _ drunker than he thought. 

“C’mon,” the man slips large hands beneath his arms and hefts him up. 

His breath catches in his throat when he realizes just how much  _ larger  _ the man is compared to him. His nose is nearly pressed into the man’s large chest and one of his trunk-like arms wraps around his waist. The contact burns against his ribs. 

Luka’s focus is suddenly split on keeping his feet under him and on how good the guy smells. For some reason the sharp cologne reminds him of Wis and he aches a bit. He falls a bit further into the guy’s torso before being hit with the realization that he’s left the seats behind. 

“Hey wait, I dun...“ 

“Shh, you do, remember? You asked me to help you.”

Luka  _ doesn't  _ remember, and he tries to say as much but the man pulls him tighter to his torso and before he knows it he’s hit with a cool blast of fresh air. The breeze helps clear his head a bit and as he takes in the yellow parking garage lights he realizes what’s happening. 

This has nothing to do with his drenched shirt. 

Luka tugs at the man’s grip but his limbs aren’t responding. He whimpers around a thick tongue, struggling to dig his heels in. 

“Le’go of me- stop-“ 

“Hey!”

Luka’s face explodes in white-hot pain and suddenly he’s gasping up from the harsh gravel, vision swirling with the sickly yellow fluorescence above. He chokes on something thick and warm and metallic. The man’s greasy face swims into view. 

“You’ve been so good up till now, don’t ruin it, huh?”

Luka’s eyelids are as heavy as his limbs, and he finds that he can no longer stand on his own power. The man grunts as he hefts him into his arms. He doesn't seem to care about getting his expensive suit dirty. 

Luka watches blood smear on the crisp white collar he’s pressed against, brain a muffled fog. 

It isn’t until he’s set back down on the pavement, leaned back against a concrete barrier, that he closes his eyes against the dizziness. The hand is back again, ring cool against Luka’s jaw as it jerks his face up. 

“Be a good boy and wait here for me,” the sugary tone has a dark undergrowth and Luka whimpers as the grip tightens. 

He’s left drowning in a numb existence, breaths labored and shallow as he fights the current of panic muffled by whatever drug is flowing through his system. 

Why can’t he just go  _ home?  _ Where are the girls? He wants Calli’s strong arms and Wisteria’s warm legs wrapped around his aching limbs. They were just here, weren’t they? He just saw them a minute ago. Where did they go? Why did they leave him here? It’s cold and hard and he’s feeling kinda sick...okay he's feeling  _ a lot  _ sick...

It could be minutes or hours before anything happens. The noise is back but this time the man sounds...angry. Angry and loud and  _ Jesus this is too much  _ but he can't do anything he can’t  _ move _ . 

There are other voices now, too, feet pounding against pavement and screams echoing like a bullet ricochet through his skull. 

It swells and swells and _ swells  _ until a long, drawn out groan drips from his lips alongside the trickle of blood.

He flinches when a cool hand presses against his bruised cheek, another wraps into his hair and he wants to tell whoever this is that it  _ hurts  _ stop  _ touching  _ but he can’t he’s still drowning. 

“...py? Luka, c’mon…”

He smells it again, that sharp cologne. The hands only hold tighter when he flinches away and he moans against the steady grip.

“It’s me, it’s Wis. C’mon Puppy, open your eyes for me.”

There’s an explosion- it echoes between his ears and he’s dead now isn’t he? The hands are gone and he can’t feel anything-

The world fades into grey and he gives in to the swell, unconscious before the next wave hits. 

...

  
  


Luka wakes slowly to the soft sensation of fingers trailing through his hair. It’s nice, and he’s warm, so he falls back into oblivion. 

…

The next time he opens his eyes he’s met with a brilliant smile. Golden strands of hair swallow his vision and those lips are pressed to his forehead in a gentle kiss. Relief soaks like a balm into his skin.

_ Calli. _

“Hey baby, it’s okay,” a thumb swipes beneath his eye and he leans into the touch, allowing hot tears to bubble down his cheeks as he takes in Calli’s pretty eyes and creased brow. 

“How are you feeling? Any better?”

Any better? Better than what? He closes his eyes and thinks hard, cutting through the heady fog in his brain. He remembers the club, the dancers, lots of lights...yellow lights, greasy black hair, his mouth filling with blood, and  _ oh...  _ that was a lot to sift through. So he doesn’t. He lifts a hand and brushes weak fingers against her arm. 

“Lay by me?” He croaks. 

She nods and tucks into his side, laying one long leg over his own, wrapping him in a strong embrace. Tired eyes flick around the room, recognizing the stark walls and equipment as those of a hospital room. 

“Where…?”

“Now that you're up we can go home,” she explains, breath hot against his shoulder, “They just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Hm.”

He closes his eyes and nearly drifts off again when he realizes, “where’s Wis?”

“She’s fine,” Calli assures gently, “She’s talking to dad. He’s gonna drive us home in a bit. Are you up for that?”

He nods absently, thoughts are scattered. The drowsiness of moments before swept away by a familiar anxiety, “What- what happened?”

Calli tenses a bit before explaining, “You were drugged, they believe the pig who did it had ties to a trafficking ring leading up the coast. But it's okay” She hastens to soothe, “We caught up to you and security managed to get him locked up. You’re okay.” 

“There was...it…” Calli waits patiently while he threads memories together, “A noise, a crash?”

She looks confused for half a second before realization washes over her features.

“Oh. He had a gun in his car. No one was hit though.”

“Mm.”

Luka shifts so that he can press his face into the divot of her neck, letting the warmth and connection between their bodies ease the strum of anxiety vibrating down his spine. 

They stay like that, wrapped in the safety of the embrace, until the others come to take them home. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot I wrote for @meaninglessblah for an OC swap. I’ve got sketches of these magnificent babes on my tumblr as well!
> 
> drop me a prompt/come say hi on my Tumblr: @ride-the-dinos :D


End file.
